


In the Arms of an Angel

by Sammy_is_obsessed



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 years of dumbassery leads to a confession, Finally!, Idiots in Love, Insecure boysTM, M/M, Pining, Their so in love, ineffable husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 21:16:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammy_is_obsessed/pseuds/Sammy_is_obsessed
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley (finally!) confess their feelings for one another after waking up wrapped in each other's arms a few days after the apocalypse that wasn't.





	In the Arms of an Angel

It’s a commonly known fact that celestial beings have no need for sleep. They aren’t human after all, and slumber can tend to get in the way of completing duties. Considering Angels have all those miracles to accomplish and demons, well, you know, there are always temptations to be carried out. Still, that didn’t mean that sleep was out of the question completely. In fact, a certain demon rather enjoyed it, slept through the whole of the 19th Century in fact. But he’d always been a wily old serpent, and a lazy one to boot. At least that’s how his angel saw it.

Yes, Crowley enjoyed himself a bit of sleep just as he enjoyed partaking in ridiculously copious amounts of alcohol, he didn’t need it per-chance, but desire was never something he denied himself.

Well… _almost_ never.

When it came to Aziraphale, however, sleep was strictly out of the question. As he saw it, the process took up far too much precious time that could be going to more important things like reading, eating, or performing miracles from time to time. He had a bed in the cramped apartment over his bookshop, but that was more out of normalcy than anything else. I mean, who's heard of a bedroom without a bed? It served as more for decoration than anything else. Sleep was incredibly dull, and he’d never seen any use for it if it wasn’t something he was required to do.

Except, it seemed, a few days after the almost-apocalypse. Though Crowley and he had done very little to help with the situation (in all seriousness they’d made it a lot worse, actually, raising the wrong child and all) the whole ordeal was awfully tiring. After all, they’d spent several days searching for the antichrist which was incredibly stressful. Heaven and Hell had been breathing down their necks and done some seriously low-done things in order to try and stop them (old news, but still just as annoying). Doing the whole switcheroo to give heaven and hell a good scare was also rather trifling, but it seemed to have bought them a considerable amount of time until their next meeting with their superiors, that is to say, if they even were their superiors at all anymore…

Then there had been the issues between Aziraphale and Crowley. Arguments a-plenty, an assumed end of their 6,000 year-long friendship and a discorporated Angel. Aziraphale could never truly understand just how horrifying it was to tear through that burning book shop searching, in vain, for his best friend. A lot had happened between the two of them, most of it unspoken as their feelings often were, but it had been positively draining. So much so that one night when the two were over at Aziraphale’s newly restored bookshop having a nightcap they were so exhausted that they fell asleep together in a tangle of limbs.

Crowley woke with a start, orange serpentine eyes squinting against the light. Bright morning sunshine shone through the windows like two portals to heaven; Crowley shuddered at the thought. He shifted, becoming increasingly confused by the second. He hadn’t remembered going to sleep that night, nor did he recognize the bedroom. It was a pristine clean room, crisp white sheets on the bed and only a few books cluttered on the dresser to add a splash of color to the otherwise white and yellow bedroom. Wait a minute…Crowley moved again, feeling a weight against him, squeezing around his middle and when he turned to see what was holding onto him, well he just about shouted.

Aziraphale’s head leaned against his bony shoulder, arms wound around his waist, pulling him closer. Crowley was in Aziraphale’s bedroom, in his bed, his best friend squeezing him in a snake-like grip. Color flooded the demon’s cheeks as his body stiffened, eyes darting away from Aziraphale. He recalled that they’d been rather drunk last night, but never would he have imagined this could be the result. Not that he thought that they’d done anything to – well, he was sure that they hadn’t “made an effort”. He would’ve remembered _that_. Being here (in the arms of a goddamn Angel!) was enough of a shock as it was.

Panic ran rampant in the Demon’s mind, heart pounding loudly against his ribcage and his breath quickened. Aziraphale, his friend, his angel was holding him so tight. He let out short, content breaths, an utterly peaceful smile spread across his face as he dozed, looking as though he was having the most pleasant of dreams. Aziraphale held him like he wasn’t something horrible, like he was beautiful, even. He’d been dreaming of this moment since Eden and it set a fire in his chest, crackling and bright. Crowley had itched for Aziraphale’s affection, for his love since before he could remember. But this…this wasn’t it, couldn’t count. He was asleep, after all.

The longer he spent in the angel’s bed, the more tortured he became. This gentle embrace was a cruel reminder of something he could never have and silently he cursed God, thinking perhaps she had set this up to punish him. He needed to escape the warmth that flooded his chest and the soft touch of the angel’s cheek to his shoulder. He would go absolutely insane if he stayed a minute longer, the warmth spreading in waves over his body hot enough to burn. Haltingly, Crowley attempted to shimmy out from Aziraphale’s hold and out of the bookshop like it had never happened at all. He’d spend a while avoiding Aziraphale, maybe take another Century or two sleeping off his lovesickness and then it could eat at his mind for another 6,000 years. That was the plan, anyhow.

Except Aziraphale woke up. He stirred, groaning softly as he held onto Crowley just a little bit tighter, his eyes fluttering open. Aziraphale blinked slowly, feeling the whole of his body tense.

“Crowley?”

_Shit_.

Aziraphale’s grasp around Crowley’s waist reseeded as he sat up in bed, wearing a pair of silky pajamas he didn’t recall changing into. Crowley sat at the edge of the bed, eyes wandering to the bedroom door. He could escape if he so wanted to. It was only a few feet away. He could run far, far away and never come back –

“ _Crowley_?!” His name was repeated, harsher and the demon found he had no choice but to acknowledge it.

“Yes?”

“What in the name of Go-…Sata- oh, the name of _whoever_ are you doing here? What were we doing asleep in my bed? Good gracious, I was asleep…” Aziraphale’s train of thought ran away from him as he sat, holding his chin thoughtfully, which left room for another chance to get out of there. But Crowley couldn’t leave. The Demon racked his brain for some sort of a suitable excuse, in the end coming up emptyhanded. What he had would have to do.

“Well, angel, I suppose we were just tired and I was already over at your place, so I guess – naturally, we went to sleep together.” Crowley prided himself in how calm he sounded, what with the sirens going off in his brain and all. The thought of Aziraphale’s embrace, more soft and warm than anything Crowley could recall experiencing and his tousled blonde curls framing his cherubs face so beautifully was enough to send him over the edge. In reality, perhaps his words were a bit shaken, his casual languid frame of speech noticeably impaired. Aziraphale looked nervous, his cheeks red and hands fiddling. Crowley was sure he could see him trembling slightly – or was he the one who was trembling? It was hard to say.

“We didn’t…well, you know…” Aziraphale grew quiet, eyes squeezed shut tight, shoulders wiggling, “we didn’t _you know_ …did we?” There was no need for him to elaborate, Crowley got the gist of it and was frankly shocked the Angel was suggesting such things.

“ _No_! Absolutely not. We just slept, that’s all,” Crowley said, a touch too defensively. He stood up, cursing God or Satan or someone as he felt his knees buckle, “Well, I’ll get out of your hair. See you sometime soon, Azira –.”

“Crowley, _wait_.” He paused, still turned facing toward the door.

“Yes?”

“When I woke up, which I haven’t done in a long time, I never tend to sleep, I was…holding you.” Aziraphale spoke slowly, so soft his voice was nearing a whisper. Crowley shivered.

“Uh, yeah you were. Doesn’t matter, happens to the best of us. Why just the other morning I found myself spooning a bottle of wine. See? Silly.”

“Did I – well, were we in that position all night?”

“Poor choice of words, angel,” Aziraphale grumbled irritably.

“Shut up, you know what I mean. Were we _cuddling_ ” – Aziraphale struggled through the word – “all night long?” Crowley’s fingers drummed on his knee.

“I don’t recall. It’s possible.” Aziraphale fell quiet for a moment before asking, rather haltingly:

“Did you like it?” If Crowley had just taken a sip of wine, he would’ve promptly spit it out.

“Pardon me?” Finally, he turned around. Aziraphale fidgeted anxiously.

“I mean…well, I always find sleep rather boring and uncomfortable. Lying on my back for hours at a time isn’t exactly my most coveted activity.”

“Get on with it, angel.”

“R-right. What I’m trying to say is I usually don’t feel comfortable falling asleep anywhere, really. I don’t feel quite safe and there isn’t much need for it. But last night well, I don’t recall ever feeling so secure so…at peace.” Crowley furrowed his brow, his heart leaping up into his throat.

“You’re telling me I, _a Demon_ , made you feel more at peace than you’ve ever felt before?” Aziraphale paused as if he had to think for a moment about the question – he, in fact, did not need to do so, having known the answer to that question since the moment he woke up – and then nodded.

“Yes, you did.” Crowley shook his head.

“Have you gone completely daft?” Crowley threw his hands in the air, feeling his stomach twist as he looked into crystal-clear blue eyes, searching for some kind of falsehood. What scared him the most was how little of it he found.

“Crowley, it can’t possibly be a secret that I feel safe around you,” Aziraphale said quickly, getting up to stand beside the Demon. Crowley’s feet shuffled, moving a few steps away, his heart pounded relentlessly. The urge to hold Aziraphale close and never let him go hadn’t been this strong in a long time. “Crowley?”

“’ Zira, stop this. You…you don’t mean it.” Aziraphale let out a breathy sigh, pausing before speaking with an abashed boldness.

“And what if I do?” A gasp dislodged from Crowley’s throat as he spun around to face Aziraphale, heart a jackhammer in his chest and the flames in his heart liable to burn the place to the ground.

“W-what?” The demon detested the weakness in his voice, and more so that the angel was here to hear it.

“I-I…well I said: “What if I do?” Aziraphale stuttered out, tongue flickering over his bottom lip anxiously. Sorrow passed over Crowley’s face as he frowned miserably, shaking his head.

“No, you don’t. You don’t know what you’re saying.” That sparked something in Aziraphale, an unfamiliar heat, an explosion that had been waiting patiently for the ignition. Suddenly, Crowley found himself pressed into the wall, Aziraphale pining him in place.

“A-Azira –.”

“ _No_ ,” the Angel snapped, his fingers digging into Crowley’s shoulder blades. There was a look in his eyes just then, one unrecognizable to Crowley. “I won’t let you talk like that! I can’t…not anymore. Not when we’re on our own side and a-and everything’s changing.”

“Angel we’ve _always_ been on our own side,” Crowley choked out breathlessly.

“Maybe we have. And maybe I should’ve said something a long time ago, but I was…frightened. I’m _still_ frightened but I can’t do this anymore, Crowley. I just can’t.” Aziraphale’s trembling hands eased up, letting go of Crowley whose wide eyes stared deep into Aziraphale as he kept close to the Angel.

“Aziraphale what…what are you afraid of?” Crowley’s voice was smaller than Aziraphale has ever heard it, so bursting with longing and hope that it hurt a little. Aziraphale swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he clenched his fists and tried to combat the chaos in his mind shouting to just shut up! Stop talking!

“I’m frightened to admit that…that I’m completely and t-totally in love with you, Crowley.” And just like that, it’s all out there. Crowley’s jaw went slack, arms falling limp at his vision began to swim. The demon floundered, feeling his legs begin to give out as he searched for something to grip onto to steady himself, finding Aziraphale's outstretched hand. Their fingers intertwined as the angel lead the demon to the bed, sitting down beside him. “Crowley…?” Crowley’s grip on Aziraphale’s hand tightened.

“You really –,” he swallowed, feeling his throat tighten, “you really love me? _Me_?” A sad smile spread across Aziraphale’s face.

“Yes, dear boy, _you_. I love you and…and I know you love me too.” Crowley felt a pang in his chest.

“You know, do you?” Aziraphale’s smile grew.

“I do.”

“How long have you known, then?” Crowley’s stomach was doing flips by this point.

“At the church, when you saved my books. You risked everything to save me,” Aziraphale laughed softly, beautifully, “you’re always there to rescue me, aren’t you?”

“You and your damn books…” Crowley grumbled before realization took hold, “ _Wait_! You’ve known that I love you that long and you never said anything?!”

“W-well,” Aziraphale stuttered, “it never felt like the right moment.”

“The right moment?! Damn it, _angel_ , I’ve been in love with you since the bloody Garden of Eden and now you’re telling me you love me a-and…and…” Crowley didn’t finish, breathing softly as Aziraphale leaned in and cupped his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Crowley. I was just so scared for so long. I tried to deny my feelings for you, oh things were just so complicated, and I thought…well, I wondered what might happen to us if anyone found out. But we’re on our own now and I realize I should’ve said something sooner. Forget heaven, hell or wherever else. I love you, Crowley. With all of my heart. I always have.” Crowley gripped onto Aziraphale like he was the last piece of wreckage in a flood, clinging on for dear life.

“Angel,” he breathed out, smiling as he felt tears pooling in his eyes (But demons didn’t cry! Well…he’d never been a very good Demon, anyhow), “I’ve dreamed of this moment for forever. I – well I never thought it would come. I love you too. Aziraphale, oh how I love you.” Their lips met, feeling like the last two puzzle pieces interlocking, finally completing the picture. Maybe the last few pieces had slipped away for a long time and had to be searched for, but at long last, they had been found. The two couldn’t stop the smiles from breaking across their features, wide enough to split their faces in two. Eventually, they had to break apart, giggling like children and clinging to one another like if they let go the other would fall apart. They laid in bed holding each other all morning long, kissing and hugging and doing everything they’d wanted to do for 6,000 damn years. And yes, in answer to Aziraphale’s question, he did rather enjoy holding him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Good Omens fans, this is my first work for the fandom. I've just seen the show in one watch through so far and I have yet to read the book so I'm sorry if the characterization wasn't perfect but it sure was fun to write. I've really dived head-first into Good Omens over the last few weeks and you can expect more content from me about these two loveable idiots. If you enjoyed the oneshot, feel free to leave a comment. This author would really appreciate it! Thank you, have a good morning/afternoon/evening :)


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